The Missionary Position
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Summary: When Emilia invites a group of Christian missionaries to Pulau Pulau, she and Jack get more than they bargined for.
1. Default Chapter Title

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**Disclaimer: 'Jack Of All Trades' is owned by Renaissance Pictures, and this fanfic is only meant as an act of**   
** love, and not theft. Please don't sue.**   
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 1**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

** Jack Stiles had known that this was a bad idea from the moment he'd heard of it. His English partner, Emilia Rothschild, had invited a group of missionaries from both Great Britain and the United States to come to Pulau Pulau, all expenses paid for by her shipping company. Emilia had proclaimed that missionaries made excellent informants, being as they liked to stick their noses into everybody's business. They also disrupted the day to day lives of those in authority, with their constant 'suggestions' for improvements. In the interest of PR, Croque and Brogard would be forced to put up with them.**

** Jack had definitely seen her point, but he also knew that as her attaché and the only American on the island, it was part of his cover, to assist in the group's settlement. Which meant, that he'd be as much a target for them, as the French aggressors. He knew that even on his best behavior, these people were bound to find fault with him, religious types always did, and he'd successfully avoided them since childhood. Until now.**

** "So, Mr. Stiles, how is it that a man such as yourself is yet unmarried? You were an absolute genius with the children at the orphanage! My, your relating of your experience at Valley Forge had their young minds enthralled in learning, and yet you, yourself, have no home, no heirs?" Mrs. Bellsot cooed, pulling her painfully shy, 18 year old daughter, Margaret, behind her, and trying to position the girl beside their escort.**

** Jack struggled with his kind heart. If he said what he was thinking of saying, it would most likely encourage the older woman, but his heart went out for her suffering child. People needed to feel good about themselves, and Margaret was continually being thrown into social situations she was obviously ill prepared for. She stuttered and blushed constantly, and afterward, was berated by her mother for her shyness. How was she ever expected to get over her shyness this way? He had to throw the girl a lifeline, give her some confidence. After all, it was the Christian thing to do.**

** "Well, I wasn't the only one. The younger kids really responded to your daughter's reading of the bible. You read quite well Margaret," Jack praised, only to discover his good deed backfire.**

** The girl turned beet red, and lowered her head at the comment. "Thank... Thank You, Mr. Stiles."**

** Just as he'd feared, Mrs. Bellsot took his direct compliment to her daughter as interest, and began to rattle on about her child's other fine qualities. And Margaret's torment worsened.**

** Just when Jack thought he was completely sunk, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds.**

** "Oh, there you are. I was on my way back from my meeting with the Governor on behalf of the mission, and I thought I'd meet up with you three in the village," Emilia Rothschild called out, smiling as she made her way through the brush towards the small road Jack and the Bellsots had been traveling.**

** "Well, it's a good thing you didn't waste a trip. Your Pulau Pulau sun can be quite taxing," Mrs. Bellsot fussed, trying to sound lighter than she felt. In truth, she had never realized the physical demands of missionary work, having spent all her life in Philadelphia.**

** "Yes, I noticed that when I first arrived here, as well. You simply have to get used to it," Emilia commented, her lips curling slightly at the memory of how impossible the sun had seemed to her, upon her arrival on Pulau Pulau eight years ago. She'd been Margaret's age, and newly married. Looking at the girl walking beside her, Emilia had to wonder if she would ever know the same happiness in her own life.**

** "So, Margaret, what do you think of Pulau Pulau?" Emilia asked gamely.**

** "It's very nice, Mrs. Rothschild, especially the birds. Their various plumage are lovely," Margaret offered, her voice barely a whisper.**

** "If you'd like, I have a book on the local aviary. You're welcome to borrow it," Emilia offered, smiling encouragingly.**

** "Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild. That's very kind of you. I'd love to borrow your book," Margaret said, a little louder, as she became a tiny bit more confident. These people were the friendliest she'd met, since leaving her home in the State of Pennsylvania.**

** "Oh Margaret, you read entirely too many books. The only book you need is the one in your bag right now, the Bible, the book of all books. Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild, but we have so much work to do here, bringing culture and piety to these pagans, my daughter just won't have time to read any new books. Now, Mr. Stiles..."**

** Emilia sighed, and grabbed Margaret's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Life could sometimes be so disheartening to a woman of intelligence.**

** A predatory glean sparked in Mrs. Bellsot's eyes, as she again grabbed her daughter's other hand, pulling her closer to Jack. Emilia remembered the same glean in her own aunt's eyes when she became of bidable age. Why society saw a woman's only future in marriage and housekeeping, God only knew. She'd been so fortunate to have met Robert, a man who understood her capabilities and strengths and could loved them in her. Emilia continued to ponder what Margaret's future held, as the party approached her estate.**

** "So, Mr. Stiles, where upon this lovely island, do you reside?" Mrs. Bellsot asked, as they all entered Emilia's foyer, and Emilia motioned for Jack to help the Bellsots with their teaching tools.**

** "Oh, I have a room in the guest quarters," Jack answered, as he and Emilia had decided to tell people when he had first arrived on Pulau Pulau. What else was he to say, 'I live in the secret laboratory behind the fake fireplace, from which we plan the downfall of French expansion.' ?**

** "You live here, Mr. Stiles? In Miss Rothschild's home?" Mrs. Bellsot, an unreadable expression crossing her features.**

** "Yes, as my attaché, it's important that Mr. Stiles be readily accessible, and since he has no family or home of his own on Pulau Pulau, I provide him with a suitable living space, " Emilia answered, curious as to where Mrs. Bellsot was going.**

** "Suitable? Some rats have larger nests," Jack whispered over Emilia's shoulder, earning himself a chastising elbow to the belly.**

** "I see. I see. Do you have any other employees residing with you, Mrs. Rothschild?" Mrs. Bellsot asked, her voice taking on a much more business like tone, and warning bells went off in Jack's mind. He looked over at Margaret and his suspicions were confirmed, as the young woman was attempting to sink into her chair, and sending him and Emilia pitying glances. He hoped Emilia would be careful with her next words.**

** "No, just Jack. I don't believe in making other people do my laundry or cook my meals for me. I'm healthy and strong and can do for myself. As for my shipping business, my other employees are sailors and dock workers and the like. They have their own homes or at least steady living arrangements on the island. Jack handles the odds and ends of the business, whatever I am too busy for, or can't get done myself," Emilia explained, trying to define Jack's official post to their curious guest. With her curious nature, Mrs. Bellsot really had potential as an informant. She might be an American, but nobody was perfect.**

** "Work, work, work. There's always more to do. Between haggling with merchants and more bookkeeping than is really healthy for two people to handle, I'm surprised I even have time to eat," Jack added, wanting to press home the point that this was all legitimate.**

** "If you're that unhappy, Jack..." Emilia began, not understanding why Jack chose that moment, in front of guests, to complain about his working conditions. Of course, she rarely understood any of Jack's motivations.**

** "No, no, not unhappy, I'm just explaining some of my many duties to Mrs. Bellsot and her daughter," Jack countered, plastering on a smile for the three women in the parlor.**

** "Well, this has been ****_educational_****, but I'm afraid Margaret and I have to return to the mission house to help with dinner," Mrs. Bellsot replied, nodding to her daughter to follow her.**

** "I can't say I'm not disappointed, It's been such a pleasure having you here, Mrs. Bellsot, Margaret. I do hope we'll be seeing again soon," Emilia cooed, hoping she'd made a good impression.**

** "You can count on it, Mrs. Rothschild, Mr. Stiles. Go with God," Mrs. Bellsot, replied, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders to protect them from the sun.**

** "Jack can show you out," Emilia said, smiling at Margaret who had deflated expression on her face, as she turned to leave. Emilia could only sigh, as she watched the girl go, then sat down to wait for Jack's return. They had things to discuss. Firstly, his odder-than-usual behavior in front of the Bellsots.**

** When Jack returned from letting the Bellsots out, he took a deep breath and prepared for a lecture from his partner. One he got, the moment he stepped into the parlor.**

** "What was that? Were you ****_trying _****to make me look like an overbearing slave driver to that woman, or can't you restrain yourself? " Emilia began.**

** "Actually, I was trying to ****_save _****your reputation! Don't blame me if you had to go and screw that up!" Jack threw back at her. He hadn't realized how much Emilia's immediate negative conclusions to everything he did upset him, but now it was bubbling up inside of him, and he wasn't going to take it this time.**

** "'Save my reputation?' What are you talking about? If anyone has a questionable reputation on Pulau Pulau, it's you, Jack!" Emilia responded to Jack ludicrous rebuttal. Her good name was above reproach.**

** "You really don't get it , do you? Your morality has never been questioned by a vicious pack of Bible-Thumpers before, so you couldn't even recognize the signs of one of their interrogations. I know of what I speak! All that 'You live here, Mr. Stiles?' crap wasn't just innocent curiosity; she was trying to get us to admit to mutual bed hopping, and, depending on whether she bought my slave driver routine or not, could very well determine the future success of our mission here! Get it?!" Jack finished his tirade, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.**

** Emilia was taken aback, and had to think for a moment, choose her words wisely. If Jack was right, it could spell disaster in so many ways.**

** "You really think, Mrs. Bellsot believes we're... together?" Emilia asked.**

** "If you'd seen the look on Margaret's face... Yes, I ****_KNOW_**** she thinks we're doing the wiggley. The question is, what are we going to do about it? She's liable to get us thrown in Brogard's houscow! And don't think he wouldn't enjoy it too!" Jack replied, hoping his partner would now realize the seriousness of the situation.**

** "I don't think she'd go so far as to..."**

** "Of course she would, Em! Open your eyes! We're living in sin; decadent orgies at the drop of a stocking; swinging from the chandeliers, and all that fun stuff! She has to put a stop to it, and she'll use every resource at her disposal, including the law!" Jack insisted, pressing home the point.**

** "And we'll be ruined! Or, I should say, I will! You'll be redeemed as a local stud! I'll be viewed as a... What are we going to do, Jack?!" Emilia gasped, realization dawning for the first time. Jack was right. She'd never had her honor questioned before. Perhaps having Jack live in the lab hadn't been the wisest course of action, but it was done, and now they had to deal with the fall out.**

** "Well, first, I'm going to the lab to pack my things. I'll move into the inn, until I can find someplace more permanent. If you need me, send Jean-Claude," Jack said, stepping into the fireplace.**

** "Right," Emilia confirmed. Feeling a need to do something, she left the parlor, and climbed the staircase to the second floor, heading for the linen closet. Unceremoniously dumping one basket of bed sheets into a box of extra material she had originally bought to make curtains, Emilia started filling the empty basket with towelettes and pillowcases, all the bits and pieces she knew Jack would overlook. Time was of the essence, and two heads were better than one.**

** She must have covered the entire house, but forty-five minutes later, Emilia had two brimming care- baskets ready for Jack to take with him to the inn. Jack emerged from the lab, not five minutes later.**

** "Here, I thought you could use these," Emilia said, now somehow unsure at the appropriateness of packing the baskets. Looking back on the past couple of months, she had to wonder if she and Jack had lead anyone else to the wrong conclusion about the nature of their relationship. She couldn't see how, but she hadn't seen Mrs. Bellsot's reaction coming either.**

** Still, Emilia began to feel slightly empty, at Jack's moving out. She'd grown used to his presence, and he often served to drive away her loneliness. Perhaps had she employed servants, a single maid even, she might not feel as alone as she felt at this moment.**

** Jack felt the awkward silence fall between them. "Hey, look Em. It's not like I'm leaving Pulau Pulau. I'll just be 25 minutes away. And I'll be here every morning at 11:00, 11:30 at the latest. I promise," Jack teased, watching her face light up, and being gladened by it.**

** "Make it 8:30 AM, ****_AT THE LATEST_****, Mr. Stiles! We have another four missionaries arriving sometime tomorrow afternoon, including Minister Jacobson from Nova Scotia, who's already onboard with our work. I don't want him waiting at the docks, while you stuff your face in the marketplace, should his ship arrive early!" Emilia responded, smiling warmly, despite her haunty and detached speech.**

** "Ooh I love it when you get bossy, Baby!" Jack joked, spontaneously grabbing Emilia Rothschild up in a big friendly bear hug that squeezed the wind out of her.**

** "Yes Jack, well than tomorrow morning will find you elated beyond comprehension, as I have a whole list of errands I'll need you to run, before and after, you've collected our esteemed guests," Emilia replied, not resisting the tight embrace, but not responding in kind. She did however allow herself to rest her cheek upon Jack's strong shoulder, her face turned away from him, as her eyes closed shut for a millisecond of bliss.**

** It was only upon their reopening, that she pushed her partner away, gasping in shock and fear at the faces she'd seen at her window. "Brogard! And his Lieutenant! Oh God Jack, they saw us!" Emilia shouted, panic stricken, immediately followed by an insistent knocking at the front door.**

** "Open up, Madam Rothschild! You and Monsieur Stiles are under arrest!"**   
  


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	2. Default Chapter Title

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**Disclaimer in Part 1.**

Authoress' Note: Firstly, I am a pagan by faith, and I HATE people who use underhanded means to try to force their religion   
down other people's throats. However, I could not just make my missionaries look dumb or malicious out   
of hand. A good strategist never underestimates his enemy. I tried to make all my characters as true to life   
as possible.   
Historical Note: Just in case you didn't know. An indulgence, as is referred to in this part, was a paid-for pardon, sold by   
the church in the middle ages and renaissance. If you sinned and you wanted the Church's forgiveness,   
you would donate a large sum to the church and would be granted absolution, with little or no penance   
required. It could also keep you out of prison if your crime was a matter of morality, and it was one of   
reasons the first protestant groups broke away from the Catholic church. They viewed this as the church's   
selling out and not taking the saving of souls seriously.   
  
  
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 2**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

** Jack and Emilia both felt their hearts racing in fear, as Brogard pounded once more on the front door.**

** "It is no use hiding! I know you are in there! Don't force me to break down this door!" Captain Brogard demanded in his think French accent.**

** "Alright! Alright! We're coming out!" Emilia shouted, as Jack unlocked the door, and they slowly exited the house.**

** The minute they were out the door, Brogard's Lieutenant had Jack in manacles. Emilia moved protectively towards him, only to be suddenly blocked by Brogard. "Madam Rothschild! _You_ will remain under house arrest! Your _Lover_ will come with me! I will inform the Governor of this unfortunate situation, and he will arrive to discuss whatever is to be done with you, at his earliest convenience! For now, Louie will stand guard outside your door," Captain Brogard stiffly informed Emilia.**

** "But, we haven't done..."**

** "Madam, I am just doing my duty. Your fates are in the good Governors' hands!" Brogard firmly stated with finality, then turned and began the march towards the jail, with Jack in front of him.**

** Emilia recognized the route Brogard planned to take, and anger flooded her. He was going to march Jack straight through Pulau Pulau's shopping district, the social center of the Island. Within an hour, everyone would know what was going on, and because of the Captain's uniformed gorilla on her doorstep, Emilia could do nothing to stop it.**   
  
  
  


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** Governor Croque's eyeballs nearly popped right out of his head, when Captain Brogard informed him of what had transpired during his tour of the island the previous afternoon. Upon his return home that night, he'd insisted he not be bothered with anything that wasn't an absolute emergency, so it was only upon coming down to breakfast, that he learned of the situation. The minute he'd shaken himself out of his shock, he grabbed a piece of fruit and two croissants off a serving tray, and headed towards his front door.**

** When Croquette entered the jail, Jack jumped up from the hard bench he had slept on. Several of his back muscles were cramped, and he was looking forward to getting out of this cage. He'd never been in jail against his will before, and his pride was definitely bruised at this moment, especially staring down a giggling Croque.**

** "Monsieur Stiles, my friend! I didn't want to believe it, but it seems you have finally been hoisted upon your own petard!" Croque burst out, laughing as hard as the older Frenchman could.**

** "Listen Croque, we're friends right?" Jack began slowly, the humble pie beginning to gag him.**

** "But ofcourse Jack! Ofcourse!" the Governor answered, once he had caught his breath.**

** "Well then, I gotta ask, as your friend, can't you just let this whole incident pass?" Jack requested, trying to scrounge a tiny shred of dignity.**

** "I wish I could Jack, but my dearest brother wishes to restore France's somewhat tarnished image, as an Empire of moral strength. If I were to let you and Madam Emilia continue with your little _ARRANGEMENT_, now that it is public knowledge, it could seriously undermine Napoleon's position. And I would not be a good brother, if I allowed that to happen, would I Jack?" Croque asked, trying to make the young American understand. He really did like Jack Stiles, and he sincerely hoped that once this whole incident blew over, that they could resume their friendship, that was, if Mr. Stiles were to remain on his island.**

** "But we did nothing wrong! Emilia Rothschild is my boss, nothing more!" Jack insisted.**

** "That is not what Captain Brogard would say, since he claims he caught you and Madam Rothschild in a romantic embrace. Not to mention, you can not deny you were breaking the law, in living with the Madam alone, out of wedlock. You know, Jack, I always suspected the two of you were paramours. Madam Emilia is quite the prize, is she not?" Croque crowed, winking at Jack.**

** "Yeah, Em's swell. Look, Croque, I have no problem being the laughing stock of Pulau Pulau, but Emilia has a business to protect, and this scandal could seriously harm all that she's worked for. I know Brogard will drop the charge if you ask him to, and maybe you could speak to Mrs. Bellsot for me. Offer her a deal, get her to keep this whole affair quite. She canhold me up as her prime example of an unrepentant sinner all she wants, and I won't protest, just so long as she keeps Em's name out of it! " Jack offered, imploringly. He really didn't care if he became scandalized. He could operate just as well, possibly even better, as an idiot or a bad boy. However, Em's cover demanded she be above reproach, and as her partner, he was obligated to see that her image remain lily white.**

** "I shall do what I can for you, Monsieur Stiles. If Madam Bellsot is willing to dispose of the matter, I will order Captain Brogard to do so as well," the Governor stated, smiling at his friend.**

** "Thanks Croque. This really means a lot to me," Jack said, truly grateful. Perhaps the Daring Dragoon would forego personally humiliating Croque, if possible, next time they met.**

** "It is no problem, Jack. I will be visiting Madam Emilia in an hour or so, to discuss this situation. Do you, perhaps, have a private message you would wish me to deliver?" Croque jested, winking at the man in the jail cell.**

** Or perhaps not.**   
  
  
  


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** Emilia Rothschild was so incredibly tense, she had been pacing for nearly two hours already. She was still under house arrest, and Jack was still in jail. She had expected Governor Croque to show up yesterday afternoon, or, at least, first thing this morning, but it was just past 10:00 AM, and the Frenchman had yet to appear. So she paced even more, up and down her drawing room, hoping not to ware a hole in the carpet.**

** The knock on the door at half past ten startled her, but Emilia quickly recovered, throwing open her door. "Governor, I am quite relieved at your arrival! So, as our mutual friend, Jack Stiles would say, let's get right down to business!" Emilia greeted, only a moment later realizing how self incriminating that sounded under the circumstances.**

** "I couldn't agree more Madam. The Empire's standard recompense for this type of _indiscretion_ is around 10,000 franks, per offender," Croque bargained.**

** "But what will you be charging myself and Mr. Stiles?" Emilia countered, her haggling skills coming to the fore.**

** "Since you and Monsieur Stiles are good friends of mine, I will only require 15,000 franks totaled. And, ofcourse, the promise that, in the future, you and the Monsieur will reside individually, or at least maintain those appearances," Croque insinuated, with a conspiratorial wink.**

** "15,000 franks, when we're innocent to begin with?" Emilia protested, hoping to bring the Governor down in price. She doubted it would do any good to affirm their innocence as the truth wasn't about to set them free, in the face of juicy gossip and an out-of-context eye witness report. Still, the attempt couldn't hurt and would be expected.**

** "If you wish, I can summon a magistrate to Pulau Pulau, to settle this matter, but it would take at least five days for him to arrive, and it would have to become a matter of public record if you were to proceed..."**

** "You've made your point, Governor. I accept your terms, and if you would be kind enough to escort me to the customs house, we shall conclude this nasty business and then liberate Mr. Stiles from his prison," Emilia proclaimed with excited finality.**

** "Indeed Madam," Croque answered gentlemanly. He thought no less of Emilia Rothschild now than he had yesterday. His opinion of her had even increased slightly, if that were possible. It was reassuring to learn that his seemingly detached friend was indeed only flesh and blood, that she, like everyone else, had her own desires and weaknesses, in this case, her American attaché'. The two of them might continue to protest it, but Croque understood that little game well enough. And everybody on Pulau Pulau knew of the intense affinity between Madam Emilia Rothschild and Monsieur Jack Stiles. So, either they were already lovers or they were fools not to be. Neither option had anything to do with him.**   
  
  
  


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** Captain Robert Fitzroy walked along the north beach of Pulau Pulau, feeling the sand between his bare toes, easing tension from his body. After a few months at sea, nothing felt better than three weeks of shore leave, even if it was in French held territory. He took a deep breath, and then turned his back upon the ocean to spot the crouched figure of his ship's naturalist, Charles Robert Darwin. The man was married to his work, which was a good thing, considering his lack of social skills. A conversationalist Darwin was not, unless ofcourse you were talking biology or botany. Then the man was a verbal swashbuckler.**

** "Mr. Darwin, why don't you remove your boots, relax a bit. This is shore leave, for God's sake," Fitzroy chided, concerned for his crewman and friend. Everyone needed time off, occasionally.**

** "I fear these sand crabs would eat my toes off, if I did, Sir. They are quite upset at my having moved this rock. I didn't even see them at first. They seem to have taken on the color of the sand and were well camaflouged," Charles rambled on, excited by his discovery.**

**"I'm sure they're fascinating, but I'm beginning to get hungry. Why don't you come have lunch with me, in the village, and then you can return to your little sandy friends. After all, we have to eat as well don't we?" Fitzroy asked rhetorically, mildly amused at the younger man's joy in something so simple as a sand crab.**

** "Alright, let's go," Charles returned, sheepishly, having gotten a little too enthusiastic over the crabs. Together, the two men walked toward the main road that lead to the center of the island.**   
  
  
  


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** Mrs. Helena Bellsot walked towards the Governor's mansion, her husband, William Bellsot, Minister and newly appointed head of the Christ's Kingdom Mission, beside her. This island was rife with sin. The people, a hodgepodge of Oriental and East Indian backgrounds, followed heathen faiths replete with deformed pantheons of false gods and seductive half coverings on their bodies. Even their European and American neighbors had fallen into writhing in lustful depravity, believing themselves secreted in the murky darkness of immorality. These people desperately needed the warming light of God to show them the way to righteous living, else they were damned to hell. Helena Bellsot knew in her heart that she couldn't let that happen and that she would do whatever it took to rescue these heathen souls. Like always, one had to go to the top, if you wanted to get something done, and here on Pulau Pulau, that meant Governor Croque.**

** When she was lead into the sitting room, by a French soldier, she was surprised to discover the two sinners she had exposed yesterday, sipping tea and coffee and eating pastry with a wigged man she had to assume was the Governor.**

** "Ah, Monsieur and Madam Bellsot, it is good to finally meet you," the Governor stated, shaking Mr. Bellsot's hand, and attempting to kiss the gloved hand of his wife. She pulled it away, swiftly.**

** "Governor, If I remember correctly, I insisted that your Captain Of the Guard arrest these wanton creatures yesterday, and now they are sitting here in your home. I thought French law forbade a single man and a single woman to cohabitate out of wedlock," Mrs. Bellsot curtly replied. You were either with the Lord or with Sin, and she had believed the new French government to be an agency of almighty father.**

** "Indeed Madam, but French law also wisely acknowledges that people can make mistakes, and some mistakes can be remunerated without the need for long term confinement. France believes in Mercy, Madam," Croque responded diplomatically.**

** "Especially if one of the offenders is a wealthy exporter, I suspect! You're just selling indulgences, Governor!" Mrs. Bellsot chastised, repulsed at the worm of a man before her.**

** "Alright, I've had enough of this! Croque hasn't done anything wrong, and neither have myself or Emilia! Normally, I would say to hell with your accusations, but this has already gone too far, and my back is killing me from the night I had to spend in jail because of you! Emilia shouldn't of had to part with her money either! I had my own room, and _NOTHING _ever happened between us! I've never been as chaste as I've been these past six months! It's been a nightmare!" Jack shouted, having lost hold of his temper.**

** "Mr. Stiles, you will not speak to my wife like that! And as for your relations or lack there of, with Mrs. Rothschild, the fact remains that in the public's eye, you were supporting a repugnant way of life! You are leaders within this community, and from speaking with a few of the people, you are well liked among the native population! They follow your example, therefore, your example should lead them to, not away from, the Lord! That is where your true crime lay!" Minister Bellsot rebutted, hotly, coming to stand defensively in front of his wife.**

** "Well, what's done is done. The past can not be changed, and Jack is moving into the inn, so everything is solved," Emilia stated conciliatory, trying to to undo the hostility in the room. These people might have made excellent allies, but they also had the potential to make equally efficient obstacles in their work against the French. She didn't want to see Jack's mouth ruin everything. She had to remain level headed.**

** "I wish it were that simple, Mrs. Rothschild, but, as you have said, what's done is done, and it is our job is to see that it is undone, for the very souls of all those on this island!" Mr. Bellsot stated with conviction.**

** "Meaning what, exactly?" Jack asked, knowing he was not going to like what came next.**

** "Meaning that, unless you come before the Lord and seek his forgiveness; unless you take responsibility for your actions and do what is right, setting a positive example for the people of Pulau Pulau; I will be forced to warn the good Christians of this island, just who they are doing business with!" Minister Bellsot firmly replied.**

** Emilia stood up at that point, and looked the minister straight in the eye. "If you do that, I will be _forced_ to stop funding to your mission, and you would be driven off this island! Ask the Governor. I'm the biggest exporter here, and I am friendly with most of the business'. I also carry favor with the people, as I donate much to local charities. To be blunt, there aren't enough Christians on Pulau Pulau to give a darn, and I believe it was the dear governor's brother who said that 'an army travels on it's stomach'. Unless you can multiply loaves and fishes, Minister, _your _army will be forced to retreat, and these pagans will remain unChristianized! You don't have to like me! You don't even have to work with me! But don't you _DARE _threaten me or anyone who works for me!" Emilia spat back, furiously. Nobody controlled her or her business. It may only be a cover, but her father had taught her that a good spy _NEVER _lets anyone intimidate them. It was the principle of the thing.**

** "Then there is nothing more to say. We thank you for your hospitality Governor, and we look forward to seeing you again tomorrow at the dedication ceremony to the mission. Come Helena," Minister Bellsot replied, taking his wife's arm, and turning to leave.**

** As Jack, Emilia, and the Governor watched them go, each knew one thing for certain. This was definitely _NOT _over.**   
  


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	3. Default Chapter Title

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**Disclaimer in Part 1.**   
  
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 3**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

** Three days later, Emilia Rothschild stormed into her secret laboratory, torn between her desire to trash the place in anger, or doing the wise thing, and taking deep breaths till the intense rage inside her subsided. Always being sensible, Emilia tried to calm herself, only to have her eyes fall on the sleeping form of her partner, Jack Stiles. A wicked smile crossed her face and she grabbed a beaker off the table, filling it with cool water from the nearby barrel.**

** "_SHIT!!!"_ Jack screamed, as he sputtered in his former bed.**

** "What are you doing? Haven't you learned anything this week?" Emilia fumed, as Jack righted his soaked self.**

** "Hey, you're the one who insisted I arrive at 8:30 AM, yet not go outside all day! What was I supposed to do?!" Jack shot back defensively.**

** "I don't know! I don't know! I don't know what either of us are going to do! A third of my business contacts won't work with me anymore. And that's just the tip of the iceberg! Half my informants won't even open their doors! Abdula's wife came after me with a broom in the market place! I spent half my morning being vilified and the other half dodging roaming male hands!" Emilia shouted, despite all her strength, almost on the verge of tears. She never felt so out of answers in her life. She was boxed in, and even the Daring Dragoon himself couldn't do anything about it. Emilia knew that shouting at her partner was fruitless, but it made her feel better, and Jack understood, which is why he didn't even try to defend himself.**

** "Ah, Em, I'm sorry. I wish I could do something ya know, but every time I go out, those damn missionaries are tailing me! I swear, some of the village women have even taken to spitting on me! And the men, well they say the most... they say... they say nothing at all," Jack finished quickly, not wanting to hurt his friend with the truth.**

** "It's alright Jack. I know what people are saying about me. Some even have the nerve to say it to my face. The few informants I still have left tell me the rest. Thank you for trying to spare my feelings though. It seems that despite your lack of culture and self discipline, when it comes right down to it, Jack Stiles, you're a true gentleman," Emilia complemented, forcing a small smile for her companion's sake.**

** "Ah hell, Em, why'd ya have to go and say that! Now I really gotta go through with it!!! Look, Emilia, last night, I had a brainstorm, a way to fix this whole mess! It's probably gonna sound crazy at first, but I think you'll see the genius behind it, once I completely explain, so don't interrupt till I'm finished, okay?" Jack requested, his nerves heightened at what he knew he had to do. God help him!**

** Emilia's eyes lit up at the mere prospect of a solution to this horrid affair. "Alright Jack," she stated, trying to come off as diplomatic, but far too eager to get her life back to normal.**

** "Okay. Good. Now, we both know that this situation could seriously jeopardize our mission. Not only won't our contacts have anything to do with us, but we can no longer move about openly. Everywhere we go, we draw attention. Now, I'm not saying this has to be a permanent thing. You're British; I'm an American. Both our countries are notorious for getting these types of things undone quickly and without anyone having to die in the process. Thank God! The thing is... what I'm trying to say is; Emilia Rothschild, will you marry me?!" Jack forced out, having dropped to one knee mid speech and pulled out a ring from his breast pocket. Holding his breath, his eyes closed, as he waited anxiously for his partner to speak.**

** "Married? You want to get married? Us? You want us to get married?" Emilia stuttered a few moments later. She'd already left shell shocked behind in the dust, and was now speeding headlong into total mental collapse.**

** "Yeah! Think about it! It's perfect! It'll get Bellsot and her lynch mob off our backs. We'll become _respectable _again. Well, you will. I've never been one for respectability. Our operatives will come back. We will no longer be the source of gossip! And no one will question our living together or spending time with one another! They'll assume we're just moony eyed newlyweds instead of the awesome super sleuths we really are! So what'd say? We gonna tie the ol' noose or what?" Jack asked playfully, impressed by his own genius.**

** "Jack, we can't just get married! We'd be admitting guilt!" Emilia insisted passionately. She still had her pride.**

** "Well, if you have a better idea, I'd sure like to hear it! We can't just den ourselves up in here every day, while Napoleon runs things out there! We have to do something!" Jack stated fervently. Far too many depended on their work, and Jack Stiles _NEVER _surrendered.**

** Emilia sighed, knowing he was right. She'd underestimated the Bellsot's influence. The people on this island may not be Christians, but they were people. The missionaries had played on universal concerns, a wife questioning her husband's fidelity, fear of loosing ones business through association, fear of reprisal from their Christian French conquerors, for those who would not convert or uphold the white man's _morality_. She'd lost this battle, but if she didn't act decisively, she and Jack might very well loose the war. Not to mention, if she lost all her influence here and the East Indies continued to bow towards Napoleon, it could lead to England loosing the bigger war, as well. The fate of the free world again lay in their hands, so she might have to give hers to Jack, if they were to save everything they both loved. Emilia sighed, defeatedly.**

** "If, and this is a hefty if, we were to go through with this, there would have to be some ground rules. Firstly, you sleep..."**

** "I sleep in the lab. Nada. I want my own room. One of the guest rooms. I have to get something out of this deal, you know?" Jack teased. They both knew what Emilia had been getting at, that any intimacy between them was strictly for show, and that their _marriage _was to remain permanently unconsummated.**

** "That can be arranged. Secondly, my business is my own. You'll sign some prenuptial forms, and..."**

** "No way I want that headache! You can have it! I'll sign anything you want to that effect!" Jack confirmed, wholeheartedly. The mere idea of the mundane work involved in running Emilia's exporting business made him cringe.**

** "And we get married aboard a British or an American vessel, out at sea. We'll have to think up another reason ofcourse, but Napoleon's new legal codes make marriage almost impossible to get out of, and if we're married in French territory, by a French Official, we may not be totally divorced once we're reassigned by our governments," Emilia stated matter of factly, now deep in thought.**

** Jack smiled, as his partner planned out their wedding as if it were one of her new thingamajigs.**

** "What?" Emilia asked, confused, having just come out of her thoughts to find her partner staring at her, grinning and shaking his head.**

** "I just realized that once we wed, according to the treaty our two countries signed six years ago, you'll be an American!" Jack replied slyly, placing the engagement ring, upon his new fiancé's finger.**

** "You're not getting out of this engagement that easily, Mr. Stiles," Emilia shot back, adjusting the ring on her finger. She examined it, watching the diamond sparkle. It was real, alright. She'd been trained early to spot a fake.**

** "It was my Grandmother's. She left it to me when she died. She said she didn't want my mother to, quote, 'get her filthy hands on it', unquote. They didn't get along too well, and she had no daughters of her own," Jack answered the unspoken question on Emilia's face.**

** "Oh Jack, I don't know what to say. It's beautiful. I'll guard it with my life," Emilia stated, rubbing the ring's band.**

** "So, you're saying it's official, that you accept my proposal?" Jack asked, just wanting to hear it from her lips.**

** "So long as we agree to the terms afore mentioned; Yes Jack, I will marry you," Emilia replied simply, letting the life altering nature of this decision set in.**

** "Okay! Then, let's get cracking! First we need the pre-nup, which I will be looking over before I sign. I wouldn't put it past you to add some type of clause that would have me obligated to cooking your meals, doing your laundry, dusting the furniture, yadda, yadda, yadda!" Jack joked, grinning idiotically back at his partner, who was fighting a smile of her own.**

** "Jack, if I wanted you doing those things, you'd be elbow deep in suds on a day to day basis," Emilia shot back, reminding Jack of her seniority in their partnership.**

** "Your tub or mine, Baby?" Jack leered, then chuckled at Emilia's wry expression. That woman had a million ways of looking annoyed with him, and truth be told, each of them looked fabulous on her.**

** "Jack! Do be serious! We have to plan the quickest, yet sufficiently elaborate, wedding that Pulau Pulau has ever seen! And we have to do it on a shoe string budget, no less! This operation has to go off without a hitch, and I need your utmost attention! Now, I'll send my prenup request to my attorney in India, as he's the closest. You go down to the docks and scout for a vessel of British or American license, whose Captain would be willing to perform the ceremony. Let's say, in two weeks time. And be discreet. I want the Bellsots totally unprepared for us! They're not going to control anymore of our lives!" Emilia insisted, as she rifled through her writing desk, looking for fresh stationary.**

** "Yes Ma'am!" Jack stated, saluting his partner, then bounded up the staircase to the phony fireplace and the outside world it lead to.**   
  


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	4. Default Chapter Title

[][1]
[][2]

  
**Disclaimer in Part 4.**   
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 4**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

  
  


** Jack stood at the pier, waiting for the Captain of the Beagle to arrive, his mind a million miles away. T.J. was going to give him HELL for this, when word got back to America! Well, at least he should have a few days before that missive came his way. He hated to think what that letter would read like.**

** "Jack, you idiot! Couldn't you have kept your britches _ON_ for once in your life?! You have the common sense of a rutting beast! Why _any _woman would find you suitable to take to her bed is a question right up there with 'Is there a God?'! Fix this, anyway you have to, or I swear to that God, I'll send Kentucky Sue back to Pulau Pulau to shoot off the source of all your problems! *Squawk!* Jack, pay attention!"**

** "Gee, my mind is vivid, although, I don't remember T.J being into bird calls," Jack said to himself, trying to figure out what deep seeded psychological issues would cause him to imagine the President of the United States sounding like...**

** "Jean Claude, I didn't see you there. I was too busy thinking. Hey, what are you doing two weeks from today? Em and I were hoping you'd come to our wedding," Jack greeted the bird who was decked out in his usual outfit of a miniature French soldier's uniform.**

** "Jack, did you not hear? President Jefferson is excessively upset at your current turn of events!" Jean Claude reiterated, stamping his little parrot claws.**

** "I heard you, Buddy Bird, but I have bigger fish to fry here. I'm getting married! Married! Why me?!" Jack asked, looking imploringly at the wise carrier parrot.**

** "Jack, I know you're afraid of loosing your autonomy, but I can tell you, when I met my bride, any sacrifice became worth it; those shiny black eyes, the curve of her beak, her soft tail feathers," Jean Claude praised, readjusting his wings as he spoke.**

** "Yeah, but you're a parrot! You mate for life! It's not so easy in the world of the featherless, Pal! Hey, wait a minute! You got married? Why didn't you invite me and Em to the wedding? We would have brought a gift! I'm deeply hurt!" Jack whined, trying to contemplate why the parrot would have left him and his partner so out of the loop.**

** "My mate, Evette, her views on primates are a bit unforgiving, Monsieur. I did not wish for my little love to offend the people I have to work with," Jean Claude answered, turning his head slightly in embarrassment.**

** "Amazing! Simply astounding!" an accented voice stated in awe, as it's owner dashed over, and examined Jean Claude, completely intrigued.**

** "I beg your pardon, Monsieur!" Jean Claude rebuffed, flapping his wings in the face of the interloper.**

** "I'm sorry, Mister Parrot. The name's Darwin, Charles Darwin, Naturalist aboard the H.M.S. Beagle. I'm just astounded by your skill for conversation," the young Brit stated, his cheeks reddening in genuine**   
**embarrassment.**

** This was not good. Jack needed information from this man, and he was too entranced with Jean Claude to give a straight answer. Reaching over, Jack snapped his fingers in front of Darwin's face, bring the man out of his observations.**

** "Listen, Darwin, I need to speak with your Captain; when's he due back, anyway?" Jack asked anxiously.**

** "Captain Fitzroy said he'd meet me back at the ship, but he never said when. I wish I could help you out more, Sir, but the Captain runs by his own schedule," Mr. Darwin apologized.**

** "Well, I can wait a few more minutes. So, what exactly does a naturalist do?" Jack had to asked, hoping to kill time and maybe make an alley. You could never have too many of those. Maybe the young man could put in a word to his Captain, for him and Em.**

** "I study flora and fauna; plants and animals to the lay person. That's why I was so interested in your parrot friend. I knew they were capable of mimicry, but your friend seems to understand exactly what he's saying! Fowl indigenous to this region are my primary area of study, and this parrot is a magnificent specimen indeed!" Darwin explained excitedly.**

** "The name is Jean Claude, and this 'specimen' insists that you speak with him, directly. Did your parents not teach you any manners, Monsieur?" Jean Claude squawked, now truly insulted. Specimen indeed!**

** "Oh! Oh Heavens, I am _truly _sorry, again! It's just that when you're a scientist like myself, and you're standing on a dock, conversing with somethi... someone who could well be the most intelligent being in the entire universe..." Darwin trailed off, floundering for words and hoping with every fiber in his being that the little parrot would choose to stay and continue their conversation. He had so many questions.**

** "I wouldn't go that far! Hey! J.C. get off me!" Jack shouted, chuckling till Jean Claude started pecking at the side of his head, and he had to shoo the parrot off of him. However, a plan to help a good person, not to mention, maybe get a bit of pay back as well, was budding in his brain. True, Em was going to be angry with him for spilling the beans, but he was sure she'd approve, once he heard what he'd come up with.**

** "So, is there a Mrs. Darwin, or a girl waiting back home?" Jack asked, and not seeing any wedding ring on the young man's finger, he was hopeful.**

** "Jack..." Jean Claude warned, realizing his primate colleague was up to something. As much as this young Englishman had made him uncomfortable. He didn't want him getting bowled over in one of Jack Stile's schemes.**

** "Later J.C. We're busy here," Jack stated, paying no attention to the bird who had spoken to him.**

** Sighing loudly, Jean Claude, flew onto Darwin's shoulder. "I wish you luck, Monsieur Darwin; you'll need it! And if you should require my assistance with _anything_, don't be afraid to call on me! Viva la resistance!" Jean Claude offered, giving Jack a stern look, before flying off.**

** "Great bird! He's married, you know? So, speaking of married..." Jack lead back to his previous question.**

** "No, I'm kinda shy around women. I'll probably just take the easy route and marry my second cousin, Ellen," Mr. Darwin said, fidgeting uneasily.**

** "Your cousin?! Brother, did I get here just in time! I know this girl; perfect for you! 18, _very pretty_, smart, sweet, and even shier than you, my friend! I tell you, if I wasn't madly in love and engaged myself, _I'd _be asking her out to dinner!" Jack affirmed, clasping the Naturalist around the shoulder, and leading him off the dock.**

** "But... but what about Captain Fitzroy?" Darwin asked anxiously, terribly confused.**

** "I'll speak with him later. Besides, I've already found the woman of my dreams; it's time we find you yours!" Jack insisted, in full yenta mode, as he steered them back towards Emilia's home. At least he'd have a human shield, should his fiancé be more upset with him than he'd assumed.**   


  


*** * ***

  


** Margaret Bellsot finished washing the dishes, as her mother had instructed her to do, then grabbed her bible and an orange from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table, heading towards the door.**

** "Margaret, where are you so eager to run off to?" Mrs. Bellsot asked, her motherly instincts reacting to her daughter's body language, which just screamed 'sneaking'.**

** "I was just going to read to a widow I saw in the village this morning, Mother. She seems to be a lonely woman, and I thought she could use some companionship," Margaret answered, not exactly lying. She had seen a lonely Mrs. Rothschild in the village this morning, and they would read together, just about birds instead of the Lord, as she was leading her mother to believe.**

** "Oh, well then, by all means. Why not take another orange for this woman. Feeding the body is as much our duty as feeding the soul," Mrs. Bellsot reminded her daughter, before grabbing a small bag, and placing another orange in it. Perhaps she'd been too hasty in concluding Margaret was up to no good. While the girl was a bit preoccupied with her scientific studies, she had an infinite well of compassion that was distinctly God given.**

** "Thanks Mama!" Margaret said, smiling, before running out.**

** "Go with God!" Mrs. Bellsot called after her. The young sure were swift!**

** By the time Margaret reached Mrs. Rothschild home, she was slightly winded. Still, she felt great, free and adventurous! According to her mother, Mrs. Rothschild was a fallen woman, but Margaret wasn't so sure. She liked Mrs. Rothschild, and even if she had fallen, did not the bible teach us that the Lord rejoiced more for the return of one sinner into his grace, than a hundred consistently righteous individuals. Regardless, what could a friendly visit to borrow a book hurt?**

** Looking around her to make sure no one from the mission was watching, Margaret rang the doorbell. A minute later, the door opened, and suddenly she was being pulled inside by Mrs. Rothschild.**

** "What are you doing, Margaret? Your mother would have a fit if she found out you were here!" Emilia insisted. She didn't want this poor girl to be dragged into this mess.**

** "But, I was hoping to borrow that book you offered to lend me. I know my mother refused the other day, but I've read all the books I brought with me, and I'm fascinated by tropical birds. They really are amazing!" Margaret replied, her cheeks becoming pinker with each syllable.**

** "Yes, and I know how you feel, but Margaret, you could get into serious trouble, and I wouldn't want to cause trouble between you and your parents! Now, I'll lend you the book, but please, don't bring all this down upon yourself," Emilia pleaded, taking Margaret's hand.**

** "Alright. Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild," Margaret said, saddened knowing this woman's suffering was caused by her own mother.**

** "You're welcome. Now, you wait here a moment, and I'll go get that book," Emilia said, smiling reassuringly at Margaret.**

** Suddenly the door opened, and Jack strode in, followed my a reticent Mr. Darwin.**

** "Hey, Em. Look what I found at the docks!" Jack called out jovially.**

** "He looks a bit young to be a ship's captain. Are you, Sir?" Emilia asked suspiciously. Jack was in way too cocky a mood, which meant he was planning something she probably wouldn't agree with.**

** "No Ma'am, I'm a naturalist, aboard the H.M.S. Beagle. Mr. Stiles asked me here to..." Darwin explained, stopping quickly, when he realized what he was about to say. He had followed this man to this lady's home, in order to be introduced to a girl. God, how pathetic that sounded!**

** "I though we could introduce Mr. Darwin here to Margaret Bellsot. Trust me. The men in my family have great instincts about these things. They'd be perfect for each other! They're both shy. They're both new to the island. They both really like birds. I think it could work out!" Jack deducted cheerfully.**

** "Mr. Stiles, I think we need to speak privately, in the parlor! You'll excuse us for a moment, Margaret, Mr. Darwin," Emilia insisted, her eyes shooting warning daggers at her childish partner. When neither of her young guests responded, she looked up, and saw Jack Stiles grinning like an idiot, as Margaret Bellsot and Charles Darwin, stood entranced by each other, blushing and looking away, but ultimately both sets of eyes being drawn back to each other. While she knew she shouldn't be upset with her partner, her pride stepped in, and her fury rose higher. "Mr. Stiles! Parlor! Now!" Emilia demanded, storming off, and God help him if Jack didn't follow!**

** When they entered the parlor, Emilia pointed directly to the fireplace, and Jack followed her silent order, knowing it was useless to fight her until they were in the sound proof lab.**

** "Jack Stiles! What the hell were you thinking? Don't we have enough problems with the Bellsots, and now you're trying to set their daughter up with some guy you met on the docks! You were there to secure us a wedding, not play Cupid!" Emilia railed, her cheeks turning pink with anger.**

** "Em, did you know that that poor kid out there is so shy he was planning on marrying his second cousin! I had to help him!" Jack explained, trying his puppy dog expression. No woman could resist it.**

** "That is not the point! Who that young man marries is none of our business, and you know as well as I do, that your true motivations for bringing him here had nothing to do with altruism! You're looking for vengence against Margaret's Mother, and you planned on using both of those sensitive young people to do it! Shame on you Jack Stiles! Shame!" Emilia scolded.**

** "Alright, I admit I was hoping those two would hit it off, but I'd never try to force what wasn't meant to be for the sake of revenge! I thought you knew me better than that! And, even if my primary motives weren't exactly pure, even you can't deny that there's something there! Did you see the way those two were looking at each other?" Jack questioned, hoping Emilia would see the win/win nature of his plan.**

** "Yes I did, but that doesn't change the fact that these two could get hurt, if things don't work out, or even if they do and Mr. and Mrs. Bellsot disapprove of Mr. Darwin. He is young, and the life of a scientist doesn't often lead to riches," Emilia informed, not wanting to let Jack off the hook completely.**

** "Okay, I realize that, but a simple introduction couldn't do much harm, could it?" Jack asked, again applying the puppy dog eyes. This time, Jack could see his partner's face soften.**

** "No, but you're going back to the docks this afternoon," Emilia said, holding on to the last of her anger. She didn't know why, but Jack had taken her from perfect superiority in this argument, to becoming his halfhearted accomplice. She felt oddly dizzy.**

** "Agreed. Let's get back to our guests, else they might get hitched before we do. Ladies first!" Jack crooned mockingly, ushering his companion out.**

** Emilia gave him a sour look, before resigning herself to having lost this battle, and leading her obnoxious partner out.**

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	5. Default Chapter Title

[][1]
[][2]

  
**Disclaimer in Part 1.**   
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 5**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

  
  
  


** When they returned to the foyer, Jack and Emilia found their two young guests, chatting softly, while staring intently into each other's eyes.**

** "Ah, ain't they cute?" Jack asked, smiling blissfully. Just because his love life was on long-term hold, didn't mean that everyone else had to suffer.**

** Emilia had to agree despite herself. Charles and Margeret did seem quite taken with each other, and had even overcome some of their shyness, by the look of it. It was almost a shame to disturb them.**

** "Margeret, I brought that book you requested, 'The Birdwatcher's Companion To Malasian Aviary'. I hope you enjoy it," Emilia stated, interupting the enamoured young people.**

** "Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild. You're very kind. I guess I should be going. My Mother won't be expecting me home so soon, but..." Margeret tapered off, not wanting to hurt her host's feelings.**

** "Oh don't worry about it. It was lovely having you here," Emilia returned wholeheartedly.**

** "Hey Darwin! I have an idea. Why don't you walk Miss Bellsot back to the mission? Em and I have plans to go over, before I go back to the dock to speak with your Captain, and I really don't trust half the people on this island. I wouldn't want anything to happen to her on the way home," Jack encouraged the young man, whose eyes were glued to Margeret.**

** "Sure, Mr. Stiles. Sure," Darwin stated, offering his arm to Margeret Bellsot, who tentitively looped her own through his. After an awkward moment of silence, the two turned, and started walking away.**

** Jack and Emilia waved goodbye to the oblivious young couple, before closing the door, and turning back towards the parlor.**

** "Now, while you were off playing Cupid, I received a responce from my attorney. You just have to sign the papers he sent, and we can redirect our attention to more aesthetic matters, food, music, attire. Do you have any special preferences, Jack?" Emilia asked, knowing full well that men never paid any mind to such things, and Jack was, if nothing else, a man.**

** "You know, you're right! I mean, I put together Napoleon's bacheolor party in one day, but this, this is _MY_ party! I have less than two weeks to make it an event this island will talk about for centuries to come! Needless to say, I'm gonna need some of your ships. How many strippers do you think we can import from all the different islands in this region?" Jack asked, his mind working out complex computations, as he spoke.**

** "Jack! Would you be serious for once?!" Emilia demanded, agitated by her partner's attitude.**

** "Hey, I never thought I'd ever get married, which meant I never thought I'd have a bacheolor party. And you're not the only one with an image to uphold, Sister. This party has to be..."**

** "An exercise in drunken, lawless, immorality," Emilia offered, stiffening at the distasefullness of the idea.**

** "Couldn't have said it better myself! You know, I really should start making a list!" Jack rebutted, grabbing a sheet of paper and a quill, as he planted himself behind his partner's writing desk.**

** Realizing she would get no help in this matter, Emilia spitefully grabbed the ink bottle off her desk, and left the parlor, not giving Jack a chance to protest. She had her own, far more important, list to make. Let Jack get his own damn ink!**   


  


*** * ***

  


**The next day brought with it a deceptively calm morning. While they received several dark stares and a few off color comments, no one in the marketplace had chased them away. They had gone out together in order to put forth a united front, and to begin the process of being seen 'in love' together in pubic. Things were going well, and holding hands was beginning to feel less awkward, when life turned them back on their ears with an anxious Madeline Verinette dashing up to them. Yeserday she'd snubbed Emilia, when they'd passed on the road. Today she seemed more than happy to speak to them.**

** "Emilia! Jack! Congradulations! I just heard from Madam Hasden! When is the wedding?" Madam Verinnette inquired eagerly shaking Jack's hand before grabbing Emilia into an brief hug.**

** "Madeline, How did you, or rather, Edna, find..."**

** "Find out about the wedding? My dear, it's all anybody of any name is talking about! You two have pulled off the coupe of the year! So, when's the big day?" Madeline nearly cooed with excitement. She lived for being at the head of the island's grapevine, and she wasn't about to miss being the first to speak with the newly engaged couple. Not having started the news had been bad enough.**

** "Two weeks, actually two weeks from yesterday. We're having a small, ship board, ceremony onboard the H.M.S. Beagal," Jack informed, throughing his arm around Emilia's shoulder and earning a major glare of annoyance from his beautiful partner. Jack didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, it was all part of his greater plan. Things were going perfectly, from his perspective.**

** "Oh, that sounds so romantic! Although, I'm sure our Dear Governor will be somewhat disappointed at not being able to perform the service himself. That man has such a gift for oratory!" Madeline replied, bringing up her true subject of interest in the matter. Her husband was an exporter and while he was quite sucessfull, both he and his wife recognized how their taxes and tarriffs were much higher than that of Madam Rothschild. In short, she and her husband were not the close friends and oft companions of Governor Croque that Madam Rothschild and her foppish fiance', Jack Stiles were, and so their expenses were almost backbreaking. It was Nepotism, plain and simple, but then again, so was the Governor's posting on Pulau Pulau.**

** "Don't worry about old Croquie, I plan on making him my best man!" Jack announced with a light hearted chuckle.**

** Madeline smiled back brightly, although she couldn't help but wonder just what Emilia was doing, marrying this borish, low class, idiot, when it was widely known she could have any man on this island and beyond, even with the accusations that had recently been thrown her way. She was gorgeous and wealthy. Common sense would dictate that she excuse her attache', put him on the next boat back to America, and marry well enough to quell this scandel, but Emilia chose to remarry beneath herself. Although, it centainly wasn't the first time her actions confused Madeline. The woman's entire life seemed at odds with her intellect. Madeline's supposed friendship with Emilia had so far failed to get her closer to the Governor; as the younger woman kept Madeline at a personal distance. Emilia was friendly enough, but she always declined invitations to picnic together or to attend the annual balls the Verinnettes threw. Madeline had yet to figure out why Emilia Rothschild chose to elude her. In her current status, Emilia could be running the island's grapevine and leading the societal order of Pulau Pulau instead of Madeline, if she meerly chose to apply herself to the task. She often did things that seemed to counter Madelines assumptions of intelligence and social savy, such as choosing to spend so much time among the lower classes or making such an unequal and ill thought out match for herself, as the one she was currently planning. Something was a bit off when it came to Emilia Rothschild. Still, perhaps Madeline could use this particular turn of events to her advantage.**

** "You two must let me and Jean host an engagement party for the two of you! We insist!" Madeline demanded, grabbing Emilia's hands up in her own.******

** "Madeline, while that's very sweet of you, really..."******

** "Oh no you don't! I won't hear of your refusing Emilia Rothschild! Jean and I want to do this for you two, and you can't break our hearts! You never show up to our Balls! We never lunch together, privately! We're beginning to think you don't want to spend time with us! Now, that is that! Tomorrow at noon, we shall meet in the square, have lunch, just the four of us, and plan your engagement party! This is going to be so much Fun!!!" Madeline gushed girlishly, again hugging Emilia quickly, before darting off into the marketplace, waving back as she went.******

** Watching Madeline Verinnette go, Emilia sighed. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. And she knew exactly who to blame.******

** "Jack Stiles, what the bloody hell was that! I thought we agreed to keep this all as low key as possible, to keep from having to associate with the Bellsots, and entangel ourselves in a bigger mess than before! Now we're having an engagement party!" Emilia railed at her smug looking partner.******

** "I realized last night that keeping a wedding secret, with the possible exception of a quickie in Vegas, would be impossible. This is a very small island, Em! Word travels fast, as we just saw! We're better off putting on the 'we're too in love, and way too busy planning our dream wedding, to pay attention to anything or _anyone _else' image in order to sidestep the Marauding Missionaries! Think about it; Verinnette throws the most elaborate parties, and Madam Elitist only invites those she deems 'acceptable'. The Missionaries are poor and mostly American. There is no way she'd let that breed of vermin into one of her swarettes! She'd spend an afternoon singing bawdy sea chanties at 'The Drunken Pig', before she'd ever put them on her guest list! Furthermore, she'll keep us both busy with party and wedding plans, as to be too surrounded by this island's social climbing butterflies for the Bellsots or any of their group to get near us! Not to mention, it's all on her tab! Trust me Em, this is definately a plus for us!" Jack explained to his still slightly skeptical partner.******

** "Alright then, Jack. For now, I'll go along with you on this one, but if I have to spend every waking hour over the next two weeks with a bunch of simple minded, constantly twittering about nothing, Socialites, so will you! I want you right by my side, everywhere we go!" Emilia informed sadistically, pleased at the look of weariness on Jack's face. She knew Jack had assumed that other than their planning session at lunch tomorrow, the actual party, and a fitting or two for his wedding clothes, he'd be home free in the coming days, while she ran around like a chicken with its head cut off for a wedding her heart wasn't truly even in. Not if Emilia Rothschild had anything to say about it. They were a team. If she had to take a roadtrip through hell, he was going to be right along side of her, and Em knew from previous experience, planning an upscale wedding made hell look like a vacation. Poor Jack. She could almost feel sorry for him, _almost!_**   
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   [2]: http://ad.doubleclick.net/jump/us/m_unclassified;abr=!ie;sz=120x60;tile=2;ord=2001?



	6. Default Chapter Title

**** ****

**Disclaimer is in Part 1.**   
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 6**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

  


** Jack Stiles sighed, then ran a finger along the neckline of his craveat. The thing was too damned tight, and he was beginning to get light headed standing here. The sight of his drop dead gorgeous partner and soon to be wife, didn't help the matter any either. She was ravishing in her rich, forest green, gown. Ofcourse, had he never seen her all gussied up before, he might have collapsed, but they'd been together for several months now, and he had escorted her to many formal events before this one. Every man in the room envied him at this moment, and despite the knowledge that this was just a show, Jack decided to play up the part he was cast in.**

** He sauntered over to the grand staicase that connected the main ballroom to the second floor of the Verinette's mansion. Emilia was talking with several of the island's prominent gentlemen and their wives. Considering the enthusiasm with which she spoke, Jack guessed it had something to do with her exporting business or a new scientific development. Her public persona did allow her to indulge her scientific interests, if sketchily. She could never reveal the true depth of her intelligence, except to him, and he could never truly appreciate it. He felt a small pang of guilt for his insulting her inventions in the past. She truly was gifted, in that respect, although he'd cut out his tongue before admitting it. She had too little appreciation for his own talents, and though he hated to aknowledge his vunerability, he knew she could truly cut him down if she so chose. And yet, as insane as it sounded, he trusted her, a British spy, implicitely, never to cross certain lines or to abuse his weaknesses.**

** "Sweetheart," Jack stated with purpose, as the group surrounding his partner began to disperse. Em plastered on a smile at the endearment, as Jack came to stand beside her. It was difficult getting used to refering to one another in that way. It still felt unnatural.**

** "What is it, _Darling_?" Emilia returned, hardening the last word, reproachfully. She knew he was only building there new cover, but still it anerved her.**

** "Hey, Em, did you see our haul tonight? You'd think it was Christmas? Although, I can't figure out what half that stuff is? Back home, you always give the couple something they can actually use, like lingerie" Jack jibed, sliding his arm loosely around his partner's waist and patting her flank teasingly.**

** "Looking to explore your feminine side again, are you?" Emilia shot back, remembering their first assignment together.**

** "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of exploring your feminine sides, all of them," Jack replied, his tone taking on a slightly husky quality, as he whispered into her hairline and let his fingers trail up from her waist, along the side seam of her bodice.**

** "Jack Stiles!" Emilia chastised, stepping out of his grasp, yet somehow managing to keep her voice low enough not to draw attention to them.**

** "Oh come on, Em! We were doing far more this afternoon, and I didn't hear you complaining then!" Jack responded, taking a step closer to his blushing partner. At the time he'd been too stunned to say anything, but now he was going to enjoy watching her squirm.**

** At the sight of her partner's cocky smirk, Emilia grabbed his forearm, pulling him into a secluded corner of the room, behind a group of tall plants.**

** "I saw Hellena Bellsot approaching us. We were pinicing in the park. Everything was all spread out already. There was no other way to escape having to talk to that shrew!" Emilia returned defensively, crossing her arms, and attempting to stare Jack down from his current line of conversation.**

** "No, no, no, I mean, after she was gone. You were still kissing me, and don't even try to tell me you didn't notice, 'cause it was you who was supposed to be watching her. You're lucky I don't file sexual harrassment charges, Sister!" Jack crowed, taking the higher ground in one shot.**

** "Jack, this is not the time or the place to discuss this! I refuse to discuss it now!" Emilia hissed, storming off towards the other end of the ballroom. In truth, she'd prefer they never discussed it, but Jack was persistent. And he did deserve an explaination. One moment they were sipping tea and enjoying a short, sunny, respite from their frenzied wedding preparations, and the next minute they were virtually making out on the picnic blanket, like a couple of teenagers. The action had served its intended purpose of steering the haunty Mrs. Bellsot in another direction, but Emilia had been unprepared for her own physical responce. She had melted into Jack's kiss, and soon they had their arms around each other, her fingers tangeled in Jack's soft brown hair. It had all felt too good to stop at that particular moment, and she had let Mrs. Bellsot get far off into the distance before pulling away. It had been a grave tacticle error, and for the life of her, Emilia couldn't figure out how to get beyond it. Jack had already tried to seduce her a few moments ago, and Emilia had to admit she'd almost purred like a kitten at his touch. It was only her strong resolve not to let it happen again, or God forbid, whind up in bed with her handsome, if infuriating, partner, that had stopped her from giving into him this time. But Jack was not a quitter, and the impending change in their social status, almost guaranteed a next time, and a time after that. Oh, why couldn't Napoleon just have an aneurism and free her from this assignment already?**   


  


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** Charles Darwin patted his stomache, and inhaled the cool night air. He had just returned from a local resteraunt and was quite stuffed on East Indian cuisine. It was a beautiful night out, and he decided to go for a walk along the shoreline. His mind inveriably drifted to what seemed like it's new home, Miss Margeret Bellsot. He was thorougly smitten, and just the thought of her made him slightly giddy. Over the past week, they had spent several hours in each others company, whenever Margeret could escape her parents. They always seemed to be on the same page, and Darwin had to admit she also made one heck of a research assistant . Her mind was as sharp as his own.**

** As Darwin turned a corner, he was suddenly grabbed. He struggled fiercly, but it was no use. There were two sets of strong arms dragging him backward, and they had already managed to gag him, so screaming for help would have been useless. Whoever had him, definately knew what they were doing. He prayed to a God he never truly believed in, even now, in order tio stay calm and to survive whatever terror may lay ahead of him.**

** About a half mile from where he was grabbed, in what looked like it had to be the seediest part of Pulau Pulau, Charles was thrown down onto a small haystack, still managing to bump his head on the wall behind him. He looked up, only to come face to face with a thin, red headed man in a French uniform. From the metals and marks of rank, Charles could tell that this man was a Captain, and his stance was rigid and proud, definately military.**

** "Good evening, Monsieur Darwin. Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Captain Brogard, and although regretable, your capture was quite necesary, as I need your assistance, and I doubt you would have come here willingly," Brogard explained, pacing calmly infront of his frightened captive.**

** "What do you want, Captain?" Charles Darwin spatt out, once one of Brogard's men had removed his gag. He had heard about the almost inhumanly merciless Captain of the guard, here on this island. He was definitely in trouble now.**

** "I need you to procure some items from Monsieur Stiles and Madam Rothschild's home, and from what I have heard, you have recently come into their close aquaintance, and sisnce you have no official ties that would lead back to me, makes you thge perfect choice," Brogard answered, no emotion showing on his face.**

** "But why? What do you want..."**

** "That is not your concern. You will simply get me the items on a list I will give you before you leave. What I do with them is MY business! But to make sure you understand the seriousness of my request..." Brogard allowed his voice to trail off, as he motioned for another French soldier to enter.**

** "For the love of God!" Darwin could barely squeak out. In the burly apes arm, lay Mageret Bellsot, as if she were sleeping. He could see her light breathing, assuring him she was not dead, but this was not a natural sleep.**

** "Don't worry. She has not been harmed or 'touched' in any way. My men simply used a rag of cloraform over her mouth, while she was sleeping. We've been very gentle. She'll think it was all a dream, when she wakes up in her bed back at the mission, tomorrow morning. However, her ultimate fate rests in your hands. I am the law on Pulau Pulau, I can always take her away again, and turn a deaf ear to her parents. Get me what I want, tell no one, and sail away with your ship as planned, and Madamoiselle Bellsot retains her perfect health and chastity. Don't, and I let my men do as they would with her, understand Monsieur Darwin?" Brogard questioned the terrified young man before him, his evil insinuation oozing from his large eyeballs.**

** "I understand," Darwin said, after clearing his heart from his throat. He knew appealing to this man's good side would just be a waste of time. He didn't have one to appeal to. He had to do as this monster said, for Margeret's sake.**

** None of the men noticed the small, well dressed, parrot that had followed them, and perched at the windowsill, but he was a trained spy, and once Brogard had untied Darwin, and ushered him into another room, Jean Claude took to flight, his odly pitched voice, sqwauking into the night, "Viva La Resistance!"**   
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	7. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer in Part 1.   
  
  


**THE MISSIONARY POSITION**

**Part 7**

**by Arianwen P.F. Everett**

  


Emilia winced slightly, as she realized that in order to get home, she'd have to ride in a closed carriage with Jack. The Verinette's had insisted they take theirs and come collect her own horse and buggy the next day. Since the night was getting a bit chilly, and she was already shivering mildly, Emilia had accepted their offer. Now she realized the inherent intimacy that the carriage would provide, intimacy Jack would most certainly attempt to capitalize on. As the coachman eased the Verinette's carriage to a halt in front of them, Emilia thought of an expression she often heard Jack use, 'Time to bite the bullet'.

The two spies climbed into the carriage, and sat across from each other in silence until the two horses began to pull away. Neither could bring their eyes to meet the other's, until Jack finally lost patience with the cold silence surrounding him.

"Look Em, I'm sorry! I guess I misread the situation. I assumed what happened today in the park meant that you wanted more from our partnership. I was wrong. I admit it. I promise I'll never step out of line like that again. Me aculpa, whatever. Just please speak to me, Em," Jack almost begged. He hated not knowing what she was thinking. She had way too much on him, she could hurt him bad, and his insecurities again came rising to the surface.

"It's okay Jack, and it's not your fault. You're right. I did send you mixed signals this morning, and I'm sorry. It's just been so long since I was kissed like that; I didn't realize how much I missed it till it was too late. I lost control," Emilia explained, examining her gloves, which she'd removed upon entering the carriage.

Jack didn't know what to say. He'd never understand why most women thought that 'loosing control' was a bad thing. In fact, he didn't even see it as loosing control. It was more like taking what good life brought your way. Why would one want to waste time and energy trying to control something that brought so much pleasure, when there was no downside in sight? The feelings were mutual. They were both adults, and not under the influence of any aphrodisiacs, this time. He and Em were on the same side, at least for the foreseeable future. Why not indulge their instincts? Still, Jack Stiles knew enough about women not to even ask the questions slipping through his mind. Em had her reasons for restraining herself, and he wasn't going to win any arguments in this matter if he insulted her logic. It would be best to drop the subject. However, before he could even get his next words out, Jean Claude appeared suddenly at the carriage's window.

"Emilia. Jack. Thank goodness. I thought you'd never leave the ball. We have an emergency!" Jean Claude explained hastily.

"What now J.C.?" Jack asked, annoyed at having his conversation with Em interrupted. It seemed that whenever he and his beautiful partner began to discuss their relationship in a serious way, this damn bird barged in and tossed it all on the back burner. Someday he was gonna loose his willpower and throw the interfering parrot on a back burner. At this last thought, Jack smirked wickedly, wondering if parrot tasted more like duck or chicken?

"I'm sorry Jack, but Miss Margaret Bellsot was kidnapped from her bed, by Captain Brogard, this night, in order to coheres young Mr. Darwin into stealing certain personal items from the two of you!" Jean Claude replied urgently. Sometimes he wondered how his two primate companions managed to get anything done in between their fighting and flirting. They could at least show him a little more gratitude.

"What the bloody hell does that Bastard Brogard want with our personal effects?" Emilia swore, shocking Jack and Jean Claude with her use of language.

"Taking grammatical lessons from sailors, Em?" Jack asked, earning a silencing look from his partner.

"No, I'm just sick of that... Thing... hurting innocent people! Even the Daring Dragoon can't help them all, anymore! Please forgive my rudeness," Emilia answered, centering herself.

"That's okay. I'm going to go follow Monsieur Darwin, make sure he doesn't get himself into anymore trouble. Viva La Resistance!" Jean Claude concluded as he flew off, leaving Jack and Emilia alone again.

"Jack, what do you think Brogard wants?" Emilia asked, perplexed.

"I have no idea. J.C. did say the items were personal. Maybe Broggie's stranger than we though. Maybe he's going Klepto on us," Jack joked, while Emilia pondered the possibilities.

"Do be serious," Emilia scolded halfheartedly.

"All right then. Maybe he wants to stop the wedding. He's always had a soft spot for you, Em," Jack offered, having a feeling he might be onto something.

"Brogard has never operated covertly. It's not his style. Whatever he's up to, I'll bet he doesn't have the blessing of the Governor," Emilia theorized, not wanting to even discuss Brogard's infatuation with her. It already gave her nightmares on occasion. The man was evil to the core. Thank God he wasn't too bright.

For the next ten minutes, Jack and Emilia sat in silence, each trying to gather their thoughts before hashing out what they planned to do next.

As the horse drawn carriage neared Emilia's estate, Jack looked out the window, only to see two people who could only make the situation worse, sitting atop their own buggy. "Ah hell! Em look!"

Emilia sighed defeatedly at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Bellsot, ordering the driver to stop, as she and Jack climbed out of the carriage.

"Mrs. Rothschild, you are despicable! She's my Baby, and you've turned her into a whore! How dare you do this!" Hellena Bellsot shot out furiously.

"What are you talking about?!" Jack responded, defensively stepping between Mrs. Bellsot and Emilia.

"My daughter, Mageret, who was seen in YOUR company the other day, ran off with that... that... CABIN BOY!" Helena Bellsot raged. These serpents were responsible! They would pay!

"WHAT?!" Emilia exclaimed, happy surprise filling her.

"So, our boy, Darwin has some fire in him after all," Jack commented to his partner, himself amused by the young man's surprisingly decisive action.

"Well, I think it's wonderful. Mr. Darwin is a fine young man. I wish you the happiest of days with your newest relation," Emilia commented, raising chin, as she sidestepped Mrs. Bellsot, pulling Jack along by the hand.

Helena Bellsot stood stunned. She hated these people with an anger she had never felt in her life before. They had single-handedly taken her child away from her, not with force, but with ideas. They had corrupted her to the soul. Now she lie in a bed of perversity, rotten to the core.

"Mrs. Rothschild!' Hellena Bellsot growled.

Emilia turned, as she held her front door halfway open. "Yes, Mrs. Bellsot?"

What could she say? All was already said and done. All was lost to her. Her daughter was now married, not as she would have wished. She had no other children. It was now just her and William again, and she did not know here to go from here. She was beaten and broken. Whatever these sinful souls had done, they had not brought her here, only speed her along this road. Margaret would have married eventually, and she have been just as alone, if she had planned the wedding herself. She envied Margaret. She envied Emilia Rothschild. Youth was truly wasted on the young.

Gathering up what was left of her pride, Hellena Bellsot turned, climbing back into the buggy with her husband, taking the strap, and starting her two horses down the road, back to the mission, and what remained of her life.

Jack and Emilia watched her go, neither missing the poignancy of the moment. As much as this simplified their lives, it was a bittersweet victory.

And there was still the matter of Captain Brogard to deal with. He was an ever constant threat. He was getting more devious as time went by, and one day he might get lucky. A broken clock was still correct twice a day. However, if it ever did happen, it would not be anytime soon. For next time they crossed swords he'd be taking on Mr.and Mrs.Stiles.   
  



End file.
